


Frolic

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fanart, Gen, Kid Fic, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1686056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As children, Bilbo and Smaug meet to play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frolic

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

  
  
[On Tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/86774751265/smaugbo-child-au)   


The other children as so busy playing that they barely hear him, and in a few more steps, Bilbo’s hidden through the trees. The soft, dew-filled grass crushes below his feet as he weaves throw the tall trunks, quiet and light. He’s not heavy enough for it to stay down, and the emerald blades spring right back up behind him, unbent and undeterred. He picks through a low bush and calls, “Smaug! Smaug, are you there?”

There’s a rustle and a deep rumble, and wind rushes out around his feet, scattering stray leaves. Smaug’s wings beating, he thinks. He creeps closer and has to climb over a fallen log; the forest’s thicker here. Better to hide in. But Smaug’s red scales glitter like rubies, and they sparkle in the thin light through the trees, catching Bilbo’s eye soon enough. A spiked head pops into view, and Smaug’s lengthy, twisted mouth curls up into a smile. 

“Bilbo,” he purrs. “You’ve come to play with me?”

“I brought an apple,” Bilbo says, and he rummages in his pants as he approaches. He holds the gift out when he’s close enough, and Smaug sniffs at it, long neck extending. As it is, it’s half Bilbo’s height, but Smaug says that someday it’ll be ten times as long as Bilbo is. Bilbo can’t comprehend anything that large, but he trusts his friend. 

That friend opens a wide jaw lined with pointed teeth, and a snake-like tongue slithers out to ensnare the apple, sucking it in. The soft underbelly of that tongue leaves Bilbo’s palm wet, and Bilbo shivers, giggling. It’s strange, being friends with a dragon. 

Tooks are strange, his mother tells him. He just has to be smart about it, has to be quiet. The other hobbits scare too easy. Bilbo likes friends and is brave and likes Smaug, and he pets Smaug’s flank while Smaug chews. It takes Smaug a moment to finish, then a hum, then he nudges his hard face against Bilbo’s cheek and says, “Let’s go flying today.”

Bilbo frowns immediately and looks over his shoulder, back towards the meadow. “But we’re so close; they’ll see us...”

“It’s cloudy. We’ll hide. I’ve noticed your fellow hobbits rarely look up, anyway.”

Bilbo playfully pushes at Smaug’s muzzle, and Smaug’s laugh is a dull rumble. But his words stick in Bilbo’s brain, and Bilbo’s feet shift, wondering—he _has_ been wondering. What is it like to _fly_? Smaug talks about it all the time, but Bilbo’s never gone more than a few meters off the ground: never higher than the safety of the trees. He knows Smaug wants to take him. Smaug’s golden eyes are watching him, and Bilbo shifts again, fidgeting, and he mumbles, “It’s safe...?”

Smaug’s smirk twists his face. He says with full confidence, “I would never drop you.” And Bilbo _knows_ that’s true; Smaug would never hurt him. He stares at Smaug anyway, wanting reassurance, and Smaug gives him that in droves. 

Smaug turns and nudges his tail against Bilbo’s back, then wraps it loosely around Bilbo’s legs. Bilbo smiles and steps out of it, deciding slowly, “Okay.” He takes a step closer and Smaug’s wing tilts back; they’ve done this before. Bilbo mounts him like it’s second nature, and it’s become that, in a way; Bilbo fits well on Smaug’s back, nestled safely before great wings and gripping onto spikes. Smaug shakes once to test that Bilbo’s secure, and Bilbo is; he clings to Smaug’s crown and sighs, “I’m ready.”

So Smaug kicks off the ground, and the usual wind storm gathers around him, but greater, stronger, and Smaug pokes through the trees and his great wings spread; Bilbo clings tighter and gasps, the sudden unfiltered sunlight nearly blinding him. Smaug soars up past the treetops, beats his wings and rises, rises, and the ground grows smaller and smaller, and Bilbo’s eyes widen in response. They seem to reach the clouds, and now Bilbo can see his home, see the ones next door, see the other children playing, though they soon becomes specks. He breathes, “I can see all of Hobbiton.”

Smaug purrs, “Let’s see the Shire.” He takes them higher, and Bilbo’s... delighted. It’s amazing. He’s never felt so... _free._ His head feels like it’s thinning, and he’s dizzy, but it’s pleasant, and he doesn’t worry about the others; they’ll only see a red dot in the sky, but Bilbo gets a view like he’s never seen before. He holds onto Smaug tight and can’t even talk; he’s too overwhelmed. Smaug asks, “Do you like it?”

Bilbo can’t answer, so he just hugs Smaug: he loves _this._


End file.
